


Mea Culpa

by BitchScaresMe



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Forgiveness, Wayhaught - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitchScaresMe/pseuds/BitchScaresMe
Summary: The youngest Earp sister hadn’t been able to find a peaceful night’s sleep since the incident. Not just the death scare but the events that transpired within the waters of the Hot Tub of Acrimony™.





	1. Chapter 1

Waverly Earp’s slight-but-mighty frame was perfectly positioned within the arms of recovering Deputy Nicole Haught; proving that despite it all, at least their bodies were still a perfect fit. Soft, strong arms pulled the youngest Earp sister closer every few breaths, something she remained acutely aware of even through the haze of slumber. It was their first night sleeping at Nicole’s house since the redhead had been released from the hospital. The oval table that once took residence in the center of Nicole’s living room had been replaced with a slightly taller, more rectangular piece. Calamity Jane in all her fiery glory snored softly at the foot of the bed. The bite wound on the deputy’s forearm had closed – the stitches well on their way to dissolving. Everything had been replaced or fixed in the aftermath of the Widow’s near-fatal assault on the law woman. Well…almost everything.

The youngest Earp hadn’t been able to find a peaceful night’s sleep since the incident. Not just the death scare but events that transpired within the waters of the Hot Tub of Acrimony. She would fall to the shallow layer beneath consciousness and wade through the murky waters of secrecy. Keeping secrets had never been her strong suit. Waverly Earp kept secrets about as well as Wynonna kept a boyfriend. And so, her eyelids twitched and fluttered like the time-defying wings of a hummingbird. Images and sounds swept through her mind’s eye like a  storybook. The pounding of her thumbs on the cellphone’s keyboard, the sounds of water splashing behind her as she impulsively moved to kiss Rosita, the percussive thumping of her heart as she’d realized her own mistake.

_“I’m with…”_

“Nicole!”

As Nicole’s name slipped off her tongue and filled the silence of the bedroom, Waverly forced herself back into consciousness. Her body went rigid in the taller woman’s arms, unable to stop the trembling of her bones. Rosita was a good friend, yes, but the thought of kissing her filled Waverly’s bones with ice instead of marrow. Seconds later, Nicole too was roused by her own summoning. Panic flooded the deputy’s system. This wasn’t the first-time Waverly had called her name out in the middle of the night. It had happened almost every night they’d spent together since she was released. Nicole did what she had always done, and pulled Waverly even closer, pressing her lips against the smaller woman’s cheek. This had been their routine for the past five nights in a row. At Waverly’s, a light would flicker on in the hallway outside her bedroom, Wynonna instinctively feeling Waverly’s pain. Here at Nicole’s, it was just them and Calamity Jane.

And oh, the guilt.

“Waves, baby, I’m here. I’m okay. We’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Darkness and guilt have one thing in common; they can swallow you whole.

Waverly sucked in a gulp of air, suddenly feeling oppressed by her own actions, Nicole’s love, and the still of the night. The dichotomy of guilt and shame is that, while you want so desperately to be forgiven, you know you don’t deserve it. Kindness becomes an unknowing weapon. Red hot tears pushed themselves up from behind Waverly’s eyes and she jumped from Nicole’s arms to the side of the bed. The brunette sat up, and planted her feet firmly on the hardwood floors, the cool surface sending more shivers up her spine. Her hands gripped the sheets, seeking stability in the maelstrom of self-inflicted pain.

Nicole quickly followed suit, resting her hand on Waverly’s trembling shoulder.

“Baby, what’s wrong? I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“No. Nicole. It’s not…” Waverly trailed off, hearing the edge in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole murmured, taking her hand from Waverly’s shoulder and resting it in her own lap. “Is this about Shay?”

Waverly scoffed. “No, of course not. I know why you didn’t tell me now.”

“Then what is it? Tell me what to do, Waves. Please.”

“You can’t do anything, Nicole.”

Nicole inhaled deeply in attempt to combat how deflated those words had made her. Everything she’d done in the past several months, she’d done to protect Waverly. Whether her choices had been right or wrong – they had been done with her protection in mind. To give Waverly a sense of peace, solace, in the midst of the chaos had been all she’d ever wanted to do.

Waverly continued, “It’s not you.”

“Oh, no. I’ve heard that before. I’ve  _said_  that before.” A weak attempt at humor.

Waverly didn’t laugh, didn’t even chuckle. In the dark, Nicole knew Waverly was biting her lip to stop herself from crying.

“Nicole, I…”

“Sssshhh, baby. Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’re safe now.”

No one was ever truly safe in Purgatory, but Nicole was hanging on to hope that they were safe. At least for tonight.   
Waverly Earp couldn’t take the kindness any longer. As the nicest person in Purgatory, Nicole’s mostly unwavering purity was almost unbearable. When remorse turns love’s roses to bullets – there is no turning back. As an Earp, rather, someone who grew up with the Earps, Waverly was no stranger to the kind of guilt that plagued bloodlines, ended lives, and stood the test of time. This guilt was worse than any Revenant – she wasn’t sure she could make her peace.

“Nicole?”

“Yeah, babe?”

Waverly turned her body to face Nicole, reaching out, search for Nicole’s fingertips in the dark.

“I kissed Rosita.”

“You what now?” Nicole laughed nervously. “But you just met a few weeks ago…”

“I know.”

Nicole swallowed down the realization. “When?”

“The night before you were attacked. I was drunk and we were fighting and…”

Nicole gently pushed Waverly’s hand away – still too tender for her own good. The deputy stood up, and backed away from the bed.

“The night you sent me that text?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Nicole.”

Waverly used what strength she had to push herself up off the bed, following Nicole through the darkness of her bedroom. Waverly reached out once more. Nicole stepped to the side. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

Nicole shook her head, turning around to flip the light switch on the wall. The lights flashed on, a stark contrast to the slow flickering Waverly had grown accustomed to at the ranch. Waverly’s face was stunningly beautiful, even as the unmistakable redness of desperation painted the apples of her cheeks and the whites of her eyes. Nicole too, had small rivulets of salt water slowly forming on her face, the moisture catching the light each time she moved.

“I’ve seen a lot since I moved to Purgatory. But I never saw this coming.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, Nicole step towards her dresser and grabbed the keys to her patrol car.

“Where are you going?” Waverly asked, her voice shaking.

“I don’t know.”

“Please don’t go,” Waverly pleaded.

“I’m going. Stay here.”

“But Nicole, this is your house!”

“That’s okay. Sleep here if you need to.”

“I don’t want you to go. Nicole, stop. I love you.”

Nicole closed her eyes and turned on her heel. The redhead bowed her head, took a breath, and walked out of her bedroom.

“Don’t follow me.”

Calamity Jane jumped off the bed to follow Nicole, leaving Waverly alone in the harsh, white light of truth.


	2. Chapter 2

The light Nicole had seen while knocking on heaven’s door was muted and muddy compared to the offensive lumination of her cellphone screen. In the darkness of her parked patrol car, Nicole stared at the message Waverly had sent her before the Widow’s attack. The shadows cast across her face shifted with even the most inconsequential movements, and the remnants of her tears shimmered as her phone vibrated in her palm. More messages were coming in, the previewed apologies painfully juxtaposed with the one claiming her focus.

_Please come back insid…_

**_Dear Control Freak,_ **

_Nicole I’m sorry…_

**_I will talk to you when I want to talk to you._ **

_Where are you going?_

**_Until then, have a nice life hurting the people you love._ **

Nicole had already ruminated on the message and its implications, but the revelation of Waverly’s indiscretion had given her brand new (slightly more jaded) eyes. As a deputy, Nicole was supposed to maintain control in all situations for the sake of the citizens she served. Her ability to assess and control a situation was imperative to the safety of Purgatory’s residents. She had never been one to bring work home with her – but the protective instincts she’d acquired since she’d become privy to the supernatural workings of the world were tougher to compartmentalize. Misguided as she was, all Nicole had wanted to do was preserve the safety of Waverly’s heart and her position as an Earp.

She’d made a mistake, this she knew. Everyone was guilty of making mistakes. Even Waverly…and that’s all it was, right? A mistake. Or was it?

Within the safety of her patrol car, Nicole felt a special type of permission to transition back into law enforcement mode without consequence. Within those four doors, she felt secure in her identity – for only a few fleeting moments.

“I’m a cop,” she mumbled to herself, “I should have seen this coming.”

Nicole hastily locked her phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. With a heavy sigh, she looked up and realized that she hadn’t even turned her car on, let alone left her property. Her porch light had been turned on, and beams of artificial light peaked out through the bedroom window, evidence that Waverly had been watching her through the parted curtains. In one swift movement, she jammed the keys into the ignition, put the car in drive, and stepped on it.

“Shit! Sorry.” A futile apology to the neighbors she may have woken up with her screeching tires and roaring engine.

***

Even before Purgatory had officially introduced itself to Nicole as a hellmouth of sorts, Shorty’s Saloon felt like a liminal space. The soft amber glow Shorty’s inhabitants seemed to steep in resembled the flickering lights of highway rest stops as they whispered to travelers in the dead of night. It existed in the in between, subdued by its own negative space.

Nicole had left her house in a rush, allowing the small-town version of highway hypnosis to take her somewhere, anywhere. It only made sense that she had left Waverly there – the only place where hearth and home overlapped.

It hadn’t occurred to Nicole until she passed through the double doors that she was still wearing the clothes that she had fallen asleep in, or that the only tousling her hair had experienced was from her anxiously running her fingers through it – until she made eye contact with Doc Holliday. His eyes widened slightly, his signature moustache wiggling as he nodded at her knowingly.

_Oh well._

The deputy sidestepped a staggering regular as she approached the large maple-finished bar. Her knuckles lightly rapped against the wood, and Doc promptly set a shot glass and tequila bottle down in front of her.

“Something tells me you might need this tonight,” he drawled.

Nicole eyed the tequila bottle, but shook her head decisively as she pulled her phone out, revealing both the time and the 6 unread messages Waverly had sent since she pulled out of the driveway.

“Thanks, but can’t. I’m on duty in oh…3 hours.” Her gaze shifted from the bottle, to her phone, back to Doc. “I’m going to assume you know why I’m here?”

“Without Waverly? I can conjure a guess, darlin’. Come on. Have a drink. I won’t tell if you don’t.” Doc winked, hoping for a moment that the town’s most armed and dangerous lesbian wasn’t impervious to his charm.

She was.

“That’s the problem in this town. Nobody tells anyone anything until it’s too late.”

“And is it? Too late?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know…where’s Rosita?”

Doc sighed and raised his hand, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t suppose you’d let it go if I were to tell you I don’t know where she is?”

“Nope.”

The older (much older) man grabbed the bottle of tequila, poured himself a shot and threw it back. “She’s in the basement.”

“Thanks.”

***

The cellar at Shorty’s was dank, dusty, and now inhabited by two beautiful women who both loved Waverly Earp in very different ways. Nicole watched from the bottom step of the ramshackle staircase as Rosita transferred an ambiguous liquid from a beaker to an Erlenmeyer flask. The mixture bubbled, released a thick vapor, and stabilized within a few short seconds before Rosita set it down on her workstation. Once the shorter woman’s hands were free of chemicals and fragile glassware, Nicole stepped off the step with an audible thud.

“Officer Haught,” Rosita started, turning slowly to face Nicole.

“Rosita, hey.”  _Does she look guilty? I can’t tell._  “I’m here because – “

“I know why you’re here. You can hit me if you want,” Rosita’s voice was laced with humor, but she shrugged – not completely taking the offer off the table.

“I’m not here for machismo bullshit. I want to know…did it really happen just once?”  Her voice shook, but she set her jaw, pushing her shoulders back ever so slightly.

Rosita’s face softened as she looked at Nicole and nodded. “Yes. Just once, and she stopped it. All on her own. If she hadn’t, I would have…but she did, Nicole. She stopped. And the first thing out of her mouth after was about you.”

“Why would she do that?”

Rosita shrugged. “She was drunk. Hurt. It’s just something that happens.”

“Intentionally hurting other people and lying about it isn’t just something that happens, Rosita.”

“Look, she regretted it. Instantly. None of us can change what happened. It’s done. Move on.”

“Move on how? Like Doc did?”

“He didn’t talk to me for three days after I told him, but he got past it. I’m sure he even kind of likes the thought of it now.”

“Not gonna happen.” A beat. “The liking it part, I mean.”

“So you could move on then?

Nicole shook her head, confusion washing over her. Sure – she was technically married, something Waverly had gotten over pretty quickly but…it was different, right? Her marriage harmed no one. Waverly kissing Rosita…now that was a bullet with butterfly wings.

“Maybe. I have more questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you kiss her back? Do you have feelings for each other?”

Silence filled the space between them and Nicole felt the air grow thicker. It had become harder to breathe, the weight of suspicion weighting heavily on her chest. Nicole surveyed Rosita’s face. Even though she hadn’t been able to recognize the signs of a cheater, she could identify the signs of a liar. Even a good one. Repetition, oversharing, face touching. The signs were there, if you looked hard enough. W _hy didn’t I look hard enough?_

“I kissed her back,” Rosita replied, her voice low and steady. “I’m sorry, but I won’t lie to you.”

“That makes one of you,” Nicole interjected, before Rosita could quell the cop’s fears on those pesky human emotions.

“ **Ouch.”** A third, familiar voice cut through the tension. Rosita’s eyes moved from Nicole to a figure behind her. Nicole quickly turned around, revealing her glassy eyes to none other than Waverly Earp.

“I guess I deserved that,” Waverly conceded.  

Nicole took a few steps back until she was standing beside Rosita, putting distance between herself and Waverly. With the youngest Earp sister at the apex of one triangle – there was nothing left to do but face the facts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Thank you for reading and leaving comments - they're much appreciated! There will be one or two more chapters until resolution. Feel free to let me know what you think will/should happen between our girls!


	3. Chapter 3

"You did,” Nicole and Rosita replied in unison.

The scorned cop turned to face Rosita, confused on the alliance they had just formed. Waverly followed suit, her mouth falling agape for a few brief seconds before snapping shut. 

“What?” Rosita shrugged, addressing the confusion etched on the other women’s faces. “I admitted my fault in this. The two of you have to do the same.” Waverly nor Nicole could argue with Rosita’s logic, but the islands of pain they had claimed for themselves prevented them from diving into the ocean of apologies. Rosita’s eyes bounced between them until she folded her arms across her chest and looked up at the sky, wishing it would swallow her whole, saving her from the unadulterated (but _literally_ adulterated) discomfort she felt. “You know what? I’m too old for this. The two of you are in love. Handle your shit. When that’s done, feel free to stop by for a shot, on the house.” Without another word, Rosita pushed past the two women and bounded up the stairs. 

It took Nicole a moment to process what Rosita had said, and even after she processed it, she wasn’t ready to unpack the complexities of her advice. “Too old for this? Isn’t she like…25?”

The color fled from Waverly’s cheeks and her gaze fell to the ground, watching her own foot trace circles on the floor. “Something like that,” she mumbled, clearing her throat, and with it the urge to reveal Rosita’s secret.

Nicole accepted Waverly’s ambiguous answer, but made a mental note to do some research during her next desk duty shift. “Right…” she trailed off, staring at her girlfriend, who looked like she was trying to conjure a portal out of there with her foot. It didn’t take long for Nicole to realize that the quieter Waverly was, the more agitated she became. Silence had a way of screaming even the most uncommunicable of truths – and it was flooding Nicole’s mind with images of Waverly’s lips on another woman’s mouth.

“Are you going to say anything to me?” Waverly asked, guilt rattling her vocal cords until they tremored mid-sentence. 

Nicole softened for less than a second as she heard the strain in Waverly’s voice – but she’d been here before too many times to crumble. Nicole stiffened, straightening her spine and pushing her chest out. “I told you not to follow me.”

“I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“You thought _what_ , exactly? That if you followed me here I’d what? That I’d forgive you? That I’d take a look at you and Rosita and just shrug it off?”

“You want to talk about her – fine. Why did _you_ come here, Nicole?”

“I wanted to know what happened.”

“You could have asked me what happened.”

“And you should have told me on your own. Better yet, Waves, maybe you shouldn’t have done it at all.”

Waverly couldn’t contend with Nicole’s logic, but the tension building between them had been heating up her blood, slowly pushing it towards its boiling point. “You should have told me you got the results of my DNA test!” Waverly threw her outburst at Nicole, knowing full-well that even though they’d already resolved it, the blow would hurt the other woman. 

Nicole nodded and clicked her tongue. “That’s rich, Waverly. There’s a difference between keeping something from someone to protect them and deliberately betraying them.”

The youngest Earp knew at her core that Nicole was correct, but there was something so easy about delegating the emotional responsibility of it all, that she couldn’t help but throw a punch or two. “And what about your ex-wife? Was that to ‘protect’ me too?”

The taller woman couldn’t help but surrender herself to the frustration of Waverly’s behavior. Whether she knew it or not, Waverly was behaving just like a suspect in an interrogation – knowing that they’re guilty but biding their time anyway. “I didn’t cheat on you, or her. You cheated, Waverly. You get that right? You cheated.”

Waverly’s mouth snapped shut at the ugliness of her new identifier.

“You cheated. And for what? Because you were mad at me? The text wasn’t enough you really had to stick it to me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to, Nicole. I…”

“Stop right there. Do not follow that sentence with an excuse. I’ve heard this a million times, Waverly. Before I got my badge, do you know what I used to do? I used to catch people cheating on their spouses. Men, women. All of them said the same thing when they got caught. They’d say ‘I didn’t mean to’, while thumbing through the photos that would precede their divorce papers.”

“What I did wasn’t like that. It was a kiss. A kiss.”

“No, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a text message. It was a weapon designed to hurt me.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about you when it happened.”

“Oh, you made that very clear.” With each volley, Nicole’s voice was growing harder, while Waverly’s was shrinking into her desperation, her remorse.

“Nicole, it was a mistake. I made a mistake and _I’m sorry_.”

“You didn’t make a mistake, Waverly. A mistake is forgetting to top off the parking meter. This was a choice.”

“It was both! It was a choice, but it was a mistake, too.”

“Kissing Rosita wasn’t a mistake. The only mistake you made was following me here.”

“Stop this, please. I’m sorry.”

Nicole’s knees buckled just enough for Waverly’s gaze to catch her in the fleeting moment of weakness. Blood rushed to the cop’s cheeks, embarrassed that Waverly had witnessed the physical manifestation of the vulnerability she’d been struggling to hide. “You didn’t make a mistake,” Nicole finally repeated – her legs straightening out until she was again standing at full height. “But I made a mistake by trusting you. At least you had the decency to break up with Champ when someone else caught your eye. Wish you could have shown me the same decency.”

The last sentence pierced Waverly’s skin like a knife and coughed up a sob. Nicole’s own eyes had glassed over, small and salty rivulets painting her cheeks as she pushed past the small Earp.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re done here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. What's gonna happen next?


End file.
